


in a quieter world

by andiownyousomuch



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person, mutsurie, set after auction raid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andiownyousomuch/pseuds/andiownyousomuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While pretending to sleep, Urie waits for Mutsuki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in a quieter world

**Author's Note:**

> it's been so long ever since i wrote some fluff that i don't know if i still know how to write it. haha but they're so cute that i couldn't help, i had to try. comments are always appreciated!

Lying down on the sofa, you jump from song to song, listen to a few, until the battery of your music player is dead. With closed eyes, the silence of your earphones makes you hear your even breathing, your still beating heart, the ugly things you don’t always say. ( _I will get stronger than kuroiwa, dad, I hate you, promotion, don’t get in my way, leave me alone, shut up shut up shut up_ ). And then: _tap tap tap_. Soft steps that stop right beside you. A hand nudges your shoulder, _Urie-kun, wake up, go sleep in your room._ The voice is soft too, and you barely hear it through your covered ears – but strangely, now, that voice is all you can hear. Not your own body, nor your bitter thoughts anymore; only this voice. It’s… oddly peaceful. And it’s not the first time. You remember how it had reached you before, bringing you out of yourself, you screaming and bleeding, and that voice soothing you, _it’s okay,_ _it’s painful being alone, it’s agonizing._ If that voice was a painting, it would be blue and green and brown, it would be terraces growing with life, irrigated by the rain. There was that voice by your ear, his kagune embracing both of you, a hand letting your head rest against his shoulder, so you could pretend that you just had bled, that you hadn’t cried.

And this intrigues you. So ever since you lie on the couch late at night, at a time when nearly no one would come to the living room, and you skip almost every song, until it goes silent and everything inside of you emerges to the surface, and you wait for. The steps that lead him to you. The tap on your shoulder. That voice.

His voice. You pretend to sleep and he always tries to wake you up. At some point, he gives up and takes off your earphones, carefully, sometimes covers you with a blanket, when it’s too cold.

Today is cold, so you've expected the touch of a blanket, when it falls on you. What you don’t expect is this – warm lips against your temple, a whisper of _goodnight, Urie-kun._ You snap your eyes open and his single visible eye, in turn, is wide, surprised, embarrassed, _sorry, did I wake you up?_ – even though he was trying to wake you up just moments ago.

( _Hypocrite_ ), you call him in your mind, but the meaning is completely lost.

He tries to get up and go, but you catch his wrist first, stopping him midway. Though not strong, it’s a firm grip, and is enough to make him looking at you again in the eye. Whatever he sees, it makes him stop, and he relents under your touch.

You gesture for him to come back, and he concedes, sitting on the remaining space in the couch, his back slightly in contact with the side of your hip, his gaze – curious, impatient, flushed – upon you.

It’s his turn to wait for you.

And this time, it is you that takes off your earphones; but instead of placing them on the table, like he does, you put them in his ears.

When your music goes still, you can hear only the sounds of your own body and mind. Trading places with each other, today, you wonder if he can hear them too:

Your holding breath. Your fast beating heart. Words you don’t say.

The world is quiet now and _you_ cannot hear anything, anything except for his voice, in the shape of a question, _Urie-kun?_

Your hands leave his ears to cup his face, gently, and then he smiles at you, understanding – what? ( _Tell me_ ), you don’t ask, but he replies to you anyway, with a smile, with your name in his lips,  _Urie-kun._

His voice leaves his mouth and caresses your ear; it echoes through you, and aches within you, shutting kindly all the noises, everything else.

And maybe this is the answer you were looking for:

You jump from song to song because the only sound you wanted to hear, all this time, is his voice laced with your name, calling you to him,

_Urie-kun._

So you listen to it.

Closely,

closer.


End file.
